


A Japanese Demon in America

by ChillieBean



Series: The Brothers Shimada: Paranormal Investigators [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game), Supernatural
Genre: AU - No Deadlock, AU - No Overwatch, Blood and Gore, Body Horror, Demon Hunter!Jesse, Established Relationship, Fun Shenanigans, Genji Shimada is a Little Shit, Ghosts, Hunters, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Oni, Overwatch/Supernatural Crossover, Pining Hanzo, Shimada bros are bros, Supernatural AU - Freeform, Supernatural Canon typical violence, Swearing, Yôkai, au - modern day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-31
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2019-01-22 20:32:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12490252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChillieBean/pseuds/ChillieBean
Summary: Brothers, Shaman and hunters of all things paranormal, Hanzo and Genji Shimada are asked by friend and fellow hunter Jesse McCree, AKA The Gunslinger, for their assistance to hunt an Oni wreaking havoc in America.Added to the mix is Hanzo and Jesse's budding relationship, and working alongside another pair of veteran hunters who have offered to help: The Winchesters.(An Overwatch/Supernatural AU)





	1. The Call

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!!
> 
> Thanks for checking out this fic!
> 
> For anyone who has wandered in here purely because of the Supernatural tags, I need to stress that this is an Overwatch fic first and foremost. Hanzo is the protagonist in this fic, and Genji and Jesse feature prominently. Sam and Dean appear more so in cameo form.
> 
> This fic is also a celebration of the Jesse McCree/Hanzo Shimada ship. If this isn't your thing, or if these characters mean nothing to you, then I suggest not reading this fic. If this has piqued your curiosity however, then by all means go right ahead!!
> 
> If you're not a fan of Supernatural, fear not! One of my betas made sure I explained all the Supernatural stuff without prior knowledge of the show.
> 
> If a wacky Supernatural/Overwatch crossover is right up your alley, then please read on! The original idea for this fic came when I was watching The Conjuring 2. I imagined Hanzo and Jesse as ghost hunters in the first instance, before switching in Genji, cause the Shimada bros being bros is my favourite hc (along with Genji being a little shit hehe). When trying to figure out how Jesse would fit in, I started to think that this fic might fit well within the Supernatural universe, so I made Jesse a hunter too. I wrote down character profiles and that's when I realised that Genji was essentially Dean and Hanzo was Sam. And here we are!!
> 
> I'm a veteran watcher of Supernatural, been watching it since it first premiered in 2005. These are my personal headcanons for Sam and Dean, and I imagine this fic taking place towards the end of season 8, sometime before the second trial to close the gates of hell.
> 
> I'd like to thank my two betas!! The wonderful Magisey and my best mate Billie. I cannot thank you guys enough, and this fic would not be as awesome as it is without your help!!
> 
> As always, constructive criticism is welcome.
> 
> I hope you enjoy reading this, and if you liked this and are keen on more stories from this Supernatural universe, let me know in the comments!

“Yo!” Genji waves into the Go-Pro in his hand, glancing out the window of the car before looking back into the camera. “So here we are at Meishin Railway, tracking down Teke Teke. If you haven’t seen our previous videos on this hunt then I would advise jumping back and watching all that good lore Hanzo likes to waffle on about.”

Genji looks to his right, his smile widens before he laughs and looks back into the camera. “In case you did _not_ hear that, my brother said that without lore, we would not be here. _Bo-ring!”_ He makes a thumbs down gesture before sweeping his green-dyed hair from left to right out of his eyes. “We all know you’re here for the hunts!”

The footage flips to the glove compartment and dashboard of the car, swaying erratically as Genji straps it to his chest. He climbs out of the car and turns on his flashlight, closing the car door before walking down the small embankment littered with trees and bushes.

“So, if you’re after the TL-DW,” Genji starts, voice low and barely louder than a whisper, “Teke Teke has killed three people so far. All victims were found sliced in two at the waist.” Genji stops moving, his body turning in a quarter circle, following the beam of light that scans the ground. “We are here because we suspect there is an item of hers which she is tied to. We find the item and burn it; we mark it down as another successful hunt.”

A few moments pass before Genji continues walking. The beam of light from his flashlight bounces between bushes, trees and eventually settles on the train tracks in the distance. “Hanzo. Hanzo!” Genji calls, as loud as he can while still whispering.

He turns around, facing the road and the blue Nissan Skyline. “Hanzo! Come on! I found the tracks!” He takes a few steps towards the car, shining the flashlight through the front passenger side window. “Oh, for f… Hanzo where are –”

Yelping, Genji is startled by the snap of a twig behind him. He whips around fast, his breathing rapid and shallow. He shines his flashlight on the rustling bush and a rabbit hops out, looks at him before scurrying off as fast as its legs will allow into another bush. “AH… shit.” He sighs and giggles, crouching down and resting his hands on his knees for a moment, before standing up to full height once more. “Just breathe, it’s just a rabbit.” A series of deep breaths are heard before finally tapering off. “Fuck.”

Sighing, he turns around to face the car again, where Hanzo is standing right in front of him. He jumps and leaps backwards, screaming in terror.

“Be silent!” Hanzo scowls, pushing Genji’s hand away so the light isn’t in his face.

“Fuck, Hanzo! Can you _not_ do that while we’re hunting the ghost of a child?!” Genji places his hand over his chest, obscuring the footage with his arm, gulping down air before his arm is pulled up to his head.

Hanzo’s frown eases into a smirk. “You are too easy, Genji.”

Their attention is drawn to the sound of a child crying the distance. Genji spins around; the flashlight sweeps the ground and bounces between the green foliage.

“Do you think it’s her?” Genji whispers.

Hanzo takes a step forward, scanning the area with his flashlight before turning around, looking at Genji deadpan. “It is two in the morning. No child would be out this late, and this is where it is rumoured the girl died. What else would it be?”

Genji takes a breath. “After you, then,” he gestures with the extension of his arm.

Hanzo shakes his head, taking the lead as he clips his flashlight to his hoodie and slips the bow off his back. He pulls an arrow from the quiver, nocking it.

“Oh, good idea,” Genji mutters, drawing a blunt, dull blade. “Iron for ghosts, folks. Hanzo’s got his iron arrowheads on this hunt and I’ve got my iron dagger.” He twirls the blade in his hand as he follows Hanzo in the direction of the crying child, the sobbing getting louder and louder the closer they get. Then, the sound of clicking and something dragging through the stones and dirt could be heard.

Breathing faster, Genji jogs to catch up to Hanzo. “Can you hear that? It has to be her.”

“Yes, it is certainly her modus operandi.”

More rustling has the both of them stop their approach, and look to their right. Two beams of light illuminate a waist-high bush with purple flowers.

“Hanzo... what the fuck –”

“Shut up!” Hanzo seethes, watching the bush rustle. Aiming at the bush, he draws the bow as he takes a step towards it.

Then, silence.

No more rustling. No more sobbing. No more dragging.

Frowning, Hanzo lessens the tension on the bowstring and looks at Genji. His gaze focuses on something behind him before he pushes him aside with his shoulder and away from the tracks. “Genji!”

“What the..?” Genji starts, nearly losing his balance but regaining his composure rapidly. He follows Hanzo’s gaze as he draws his bow once more. He shines his torch over the tracks and sees a girl, not older than fourteen lying on the ground, white glowing eyes looking back at him. She has long, straight black hair and pale sickly grey skin. She is wearing a white shirt which is now mostly brown and red from the dirt and blood. Arms bent at an almost impossible angle below her, she lifts her body up. What’s left of her body, at least. There is nothing below her waist. “Fucking fuck! Hanzo!!” Genji exclaims, back stepping beside Hanzo as she crosses the tracks.

Hanzo fires the arrow, hitting the girl right between the eyes. She disappears in a puff of grey smoke. “We have to be quick,” he warns, picking up the arrow embedded in the rocks beside the tracks, “We must be close to whatever is tying her to this area.”

Genji nods. “Yep… right. We need to find it.” He starts searching along the tracks, the flashlight moves quickly from the bushes to trees. “Gods it would help if we knew what we were looking for.”

“I think I have it,” Hanzo calls over his shoulder, standing just ahead of Genji. He jogs to Hanzo, and he’s holding a pink journal, decorated in cat stickers and love hearts of different colours.

“ _That_ looks like it belongs to a school girl,” Genji says quickly, excitement thick on his voice.

Nodding, Hanzo places the journal on the ground, grabbing a flask and matches from his hoodie pocket. Genji reaches into his pocket, pulling out a bag of salt. He opens the bag and tips the entire lot on the journal before Hanzo opens the flask and pours the liquid over the top.

Hanzo stuffs the flask back into his pocket but before he can strike the match, the sound of dragging is heard again. And it’s approaching fast. Hanzo shoves the box of matches into Genji’s hands as he nocks and draws another arrow, searching for the girl. Scanning left and right, he cannot find her.

“Genji!” Hanzo exclaims, turning around and looking at the matches in his hand.

“Oh, shit. Right!” Genji exclaims, fumbling with the torch and box of matches in his hand before plucking a match and striking, but it snaps in half before it ignites. “Fuck these things!” Genji curses, before pulling three matches from the box. He strikes the matches and they ignite, and in the distance white glowing eyes reflect off Genji’s torch, looking right at him. The girl screeches and starts her rapid approach, much faster than humanly possible.

“Burn in hell, bitch!” Genji yells, dropping the matches to the ground. They ignite the journal, the fire crackles as the pages start to peel and the plastic casing of the binder melts away. The girl stops moving, smoke billows from her back and she screams before an invisible fire takes hold and she dissipates into millions of embers, all catching on the breeze and extinguishing.

“Fuck yeah!” Genji exclaims, jumping into the air. Hanzo shakes his head and rolls his eyes, looking at the burning binder. The Go-Pro shakes as it’s unclipped, the camera is unsteady as Genji flips it to face him. He drapes his arm over Hanzo’s shoulders, “This is Genji and Hanzo Shimada, The Yōkai Slayers, signing out!”

 ----------

“Well?” Genji asks, grin wide on his face as he turns in his seat to face a very unimpressed Hanzo. “What do you think?”

Hanzo quirks an eyebrow and looks down at his brother. “I am surprised you wish to post this one on the internet. You were quite scared on this hunt.”

“It’s good publicity, Hanzo,” Genji counters. “And besides, we were out there in the middle of the night, of course I was scared!”

“By your insistence!” Hanzo argues. “It would have been easier to search in the middle of the day.” He takes a breath, pinching the bridge of his nose, gently playing with the bridge piercing under his thumb and finger. “We do not need publicity. Those who require our services know of us without _that_.” Hanzo gestures to the paused video on the monitor with the flick of his head. He looks at the still of himself, eyebrow raised and… lips puckered? Does he always do that?

“Just extending our reach,” Genji says, slumping in the chair and stretching his legs, crossing them at the ankles. “But seriously, this is the final, edited version I’m planning on posting. Just need to put the logo on. Do you have any input?”

Hanzo shakes his head. “Do whatever pleases you, Genji. If you feel that showing the world how scared you are of a simple ghost is what will bring in more jobs, then by all means, post the video.”

It was a low blow, but Hanzo really does not like the audience these videos attract: Teenage girls. Screaming, rabid teenage girls who wish to do unsavoury things to him and Genji. Genji may love the attention, but to Hanzo, it is not flattering in the slightest.

Genji laughs. “It shows that even the most experienced hunters are human, Hanzo.”

“If only they knew,” Hanzo mutters under his breath. Bringing his hands to his face, he rubs his eyes, hard enough to see stars. He needs a drink. Sighing and letting his arms fall to his side, he says, “Do as you wish. I will not stop you,” before turning to walk away.

“Thanks anija,” Genji sing-songs and Hanzo flips him off as he leaves the room.

Closing his eyes, he stretches his arms over his head, interlocking his fingers and stretching until the muscles in his arms protest. He enters the kitchen, grabbing two tumblers from the dishrack and the bottle of sake sitting on the bench, pouring the alcohol into the two glasses. Picking up a glass, he downs the lot before pouring more, screwing the cap on the bottle and tucking it under his arm as he carries both glasses back to the study.

Hanzo sets one glass on the desk, littered with paper, books and neon green sticky notes and Genji hums in acknowledgement. He grabs the bottle under his arm from the neck as he turns around to leave but stops when the theme to that silly Clint Eastwood cowboy movie starts playing. Narrowing his eyes, knowing full well Genji does not listen to music like that, he looks back at the monitor.

His heart skips a beat as he realises that the song is an incoming call, and the name of the person calling is The Gunslinger, complete with a cartoon image of a cowboy hat as the icon.

The Gunslinger, or Jesse McCree as he goes by, worked a job with them five months ago after they needed a demon hunter to take care of a crossroads demon who made their way to Japan. It was their first experience with a demon from Christian mythology and they were grossly inexperienced with the tricks on how to deal with one.

The American was ruggedly handsome; shaggy hair, tanned skin and the silkiest southern drawl someone could ever have. Deadly with his six-shooter, and impossibly gentle in bed.

“Hannnnnnnzo,” Genji says excitedly, looking over his shoulder and grinning from ear to ear, “it’s your boyfriend!”

“He is not my boyfriend!” Hanzo says quickly. Too quickly with too much denial behind the words.

Genji picks up on it instantly and laughs. “Yeah, you keep telling yourself that.”

Ignoring his brother’s stupid face, he points to the screen. “Will you answer before we miss the call?”

“Eww. You answer,” Genji says standing up and covering his eyes. “I don’t want any part of your sex calls.”

“For the love of… it was one time!” Hanzo pushes Genji out of the way with his elbow and sits in the chair, placing his glass and the bottle of sake down on top of an old lore book which really should not be used as a coaster.

They are trying long distance dating, if you could call it that. Ever since their hunt, they’ve called and texted and IM’d whenever they can and talk about life, specifics of hunts or whatever crosses their minds. Which unfortunately is not as often as Hanzo would like given the conflicting time zones or how busy one or both of them can be.

It has been six agonising weeks and counting since Hanzo has had a face-to-face with the man. When they video chat, the calls are mostly spent drinking and fooling around. Though, ever since Genji caught Hanzo in a somewhat compromising position, he has been careful to video call Jesse only when Genji is passed out drunk.

So a video call from the man himself is highly unusual.

Hanzo fusses with his bangs, running his fingers through the hair, pushing it just to the side of his right eye before sweeping it behind his ear. He smooths his hand over the top of his head, stopping at the rough top-knot his long hair is in.

“And you say he’s not your boyfriend,” Genji teases, bringing his hands down on Hanzo’s shoulders.

Hanzo rolls his eyes and takes a breath before answering the call. He hopes he looks decent enough for eleven-thirty at night.

“Gunslinger,” Hanzo greets, smile wide.

“Ah, if it ain’t my favourite hunter brothers.” Jesse eases into a soft smile. “How are you boys?”

“Very good,” Genji says before Hanzo can even open his mouth to speak. “Have you seen our latest video?” Of course Genji starts with the video.

“Can’t say that I have. Been workin’ a case and it’s a real doozy.”

“Well you’ll have two to watch once we post yesterday’s efforts!”

Hanzo takes a moment to look at Jesse’s surrounds. White light illuminates a sterile room; white walls, floors and stainless steel benches. He is in a hospital. He himself is dressed in a suit, black jacket over a white shirt and burgundy tie. His trademark cowboy hat is absent, and his usually scruffy hair is combed back, his beard is neatly trimmed and shorter than the last time Hanzo had seen him.

“You are on a case now,” Hanzo muses. The Jesse before them and the Jesse he knows are two very different people… And he likes this Jesse very much.

“Sure am,” Jesse smiles, pulling the camera away and flipping it around, revealing a body under a thin dark green sheet. So he is in a morgue. “So, this case had me stumped,” he starts, talking off screen, “and took more research than I’d care to admit before discovering what might be the monster huntin’ these poor folk.”

“This is not the first body, then?” Hanzo asks, eyes catching a second covered body on the corner of the screen when Jesse walks around to the side of the first bed.

“It is not. This would make number five and six is right over there.” Jesse aims the camera to the second body and Hanzo immediately notices that it is much smaller than the first. “It’s the same M.O. in each case,” Jesse continues, moving the camera back over the first body. “Four seaside inns in Portland, Maine have been hit. In the first two cases, there was one fella each, the innkeeper in both cases, who’d gone missing. The two inns were next to each other, cops here suspected they’d skipped town, until their remains were found three days ago in one of the rooms.” Jesse brings his hand up to the top of the sheet, holding still as he adds, “The third and fourth inns, there were two bodies. One, like this fella,” Jesse pulled the sheet back down to the man’s chest, revealing a gaping wide hole in the side of his neck, “had his throat ripped out.”

“Gruesome,” Genji says enthusiastically, leaning in for a closer look.

“That ain’t the best part.” Jesse pulls down the sheet further, uncovering the man completely. Both Hanzo and Genji lean in closer, but it’s Genji who speaks.

“Are his balls missing?!”

“Certainly are,” Jesse confirms, a slight hint of amusement on his voice. Hanzo can hear the smile on his face. He wishes he could see it.

Frowning and focussing on the reason _why_ Jesse called, Hanzo analyses the wound on the neck then the wound between his legs. “The neck wound appears animalistic, like a wolf or other large animal has attacked him. The wound between the legs looks precision. Like care was taken to remove him of his… ah…”

“Balls, Hanzo. The word is balls,” Genji says, amusement thick on his voice. Hanzo elbows him hard in the ribs and he sucks in a breath before coughing.

“Yep. Medical examiner thinks he was removed of his testicles after death with a blade. Scalpel, perhaps.” Jesse informs them, before covering the body with the sheet.

“When death isn’t enough,” Genji quips. “So what’s with the second body?”

“Now, this is where it gets weird.” Jesse walks from the first to the second, grabbing the sheet in his fist. “Now, I hope you fellas aren’t eatin’ anything,” he warns as he pulls the sheet back.

Hanzo winces. There is no body. There is only a bloody skeleton with bits of flesh and tendon hanging off it.

“Shit, Jesse!” Genji exclaims, almost face-to-face with the monitor. “That’s nasty!”

“Yep, this one is a particularly gruesome case, even for me.” He pauses for a moment, then adds, stooping the camera in close onto the ribs of the skeleton, “Now take a look at this.”

There are small bite marks on the bone, too small to be from any large animal. They almost appear as scratches, long and thin, as if made from sharp pointed teeth rather than blunt teeth. The remains here are completely contrasted to the wounds on the first body. Two attackers, perhaps?

“And they were in the same inn?” Hanzo asks, leaning back in his seat.

“Certainly were. These fellas are from inn number four, inn number three had the same; one body with the throat wound and missing testes and the other eaten down to the skeleton. The missing innkeepers from the first two inns looked like this too. I called a few hunter friends to see if they’d seen anythin’ like this, and the answer from all of them was a resounding no.”

Hanzo hums, bringing his hand up to his chin, the stubble rough under his fingertips. “So why contact us?”

Jesse covers the second body and flips the camera so it’s facing him again. He smiles, it is slightly lopsided and he is showing the slightest hint of teeth. His eyes crinkle in the corners. Hanzo misses that smile. “After doin’ an insane amount of research, I stumbled on an ancient book by the name of Malleus Maleficarum, it’s a witchhunter’s manual.”

“Yep, I know all about that one,” Genji says bitterly.

“In there, they talk about a Japanese succubus who collects testicles,” Jesse continues.

“Geez, lady, there are better things to collect,” Genji mumbles while cupping himself.

Hanzo rolls his eyes and Jesse chuckles. It makes his stomach flutter. “I have heard the tales,” Hanzo states quickly, remembering the folktales quite prominently now. “A Sazae Oni.”

Jesse smiles wide, saying “Right on the money, darlin’.” He finishes the statement with a wink and Hanzo can feel the flush in his cheeks.

“A what?” Genji asks.

“Did you not take the time to read the history of Japanese folklore like Mother instructed us to?” Hanzo asks, scolding.

“Why would I when _you’re_ the book nerd,” Genji says matter-of-fact.

Hanzo takes a deep breath in an attempt to fight the urge to punch his brother in the arm. He wants to play it cool in front of Jesse. “You will be the death of me,” he mutters instead, scratching at his eyebrow.

“You know, you two remind me of another duo I work with from time to time,” Jesse says. He frowns, then nods after a moment, a look of surprise crosses his face like he’s had an epiphany. “Brothers, too.”

“Surely _they_ are not as childish as Genji.” Hanzo leans forward in his seat, resting his elbows on the desk and sideways glances at Genji.

“The older one can be, though they do behave like you two. Must be a brother thing,” Jesse chuckles. “Anyway, I wasn’t just callin’ to say hi.” Hanzo smiles and Jesse continues, “Hanzo, it seems that you know a bit about this Sazae Oni?”

“Very little is known. It is believed the Sazae Oni is a… sea snail?” Hanzo guesses, unaware if it has an English name.

“Yep, though specifically we call ‘em turban snails,” Jesse explains.

Hanzo nods and continues, “It is a yōkai, a supernatural creature which can shapeshift into a human. It possessed its powers after living an exceptionally long life.”

“Thirty years, accordin’ to the witchhunter’s manual,” Jesse confirms.

“There are two myths associated with the Sazae Oni,” Hanzo starts, leaning back in his seat and rubbing his chin. “One, where it will take on the shape of a woman lost at sea. A ship will rescue her and as gratitude she sleeps with the entire crew, eating their testicles when she is done with them.”

“Rough,” Genji says, shaking his head.

“The other, she travels from inn to inn, moving in the dead of night and devours innkeepers. The legend changes depending on which prefecture you reside, but it seems that this Sazae Oni has both traits.” Hanzo folds his arms across his chest. “It is most peculiar.”

“Yeah, that’s about what I’ve learned from it,” Jesse says, nodding. “The manual also stated that she collects the semen from her conquests in order to breed.”

“So there could be more of them, then?” Genji asks.

“Let’s hope not,” Jesse answers, glancing at the two bodies behind him. “This one’s wreaking enough havoc as it is.” He pauses, frowning before taking a deep breath. “Haven’t found any way to stop her, though. Would you happen to know?”

Hanzo shakes his head. “No, not much is known about this particular Oni. And the fact that one is suspected to be outside of Japan is unheard of.”

There are a few moments of silence as Hanzo thinks of what their next move is. He needs to re-read those folklore books, gather as much information as possible to help Jesse. Perhaps even joining him on this hunt would not be a bad idea, if for nothing else than the dragons –

Jesse hums. “Now, I hate to be a bother, but I don’t suppose you two are up for a field trip? I could use your help with this.” Hanzo’s eyes light up and Jesse’s smile widens. “I’ll take that as a yes, then?”

Genji leans forward between Hanzo and the monitor to catch a look at his face, bursting out laughing. “Oh, Hanzo, you’re so easy to read!”

Hanzo pushes Genji out of the way. “We would be glad to assist you with your Oni problem. It’s the least we can do for helping us with the crossroads demon.”

“Ah, I wasn’t lookin’ for a debt to be repaid,” Jesse says modestly. This is what us hunters do, help out when we need.”

Hanzo nods and smiles. “Indeed it is.” He looks at Genji. “We are not working on any cases right now, so we can be on the first available flight to… Maine?” Hanzo looks back at the monitor.

“Sure is. I can pick you up from the airport when you arrive. Just let me know the flight details.”

“Will do.” Hanzo pauses to glance at Genji, who frowns and shakes his head before a look of realisation crosses his face.

“Oh. Yep, I’ll work on that now,” Genji says, standing up. “Jesse, make sure you catch those videos when you can, the second will have good shots of Hanzo in action.” He winks before squeezing Hanzo’s shoulders and leaving the room, closing the door behind him.

Hanzo turns back to the monitor, leaning forward on his forearms and folding them against the desk. “It will be good to see you again, Jesse.”

“Feeling’s mutual, sugar,” Jesse winks. He looks down at himself. “If I wasn’t on the job I’d suggest another round of video chat fun.”

Hanzo chuckles nervously as a spark of excitement ripples through him. “Why have another round of the video chat when we can have a round two of the real thing?” He asks, voice low and husky.

Jesse chuckles, bringing his voice down. “Well, technically it’d be round three, but who’s countin’?”

Smirking, Hanzo replies, “Round three, then. After the hunt.”

Jesse hums. “Work first, play later.”

“Work first,” Hanzo says with a grin and a wink. He takes a breath as his smile fades, reluctant for the call to end. “I should let you get back to playing FBI agent, then,” he sighs.

“Yep, Agent Cash needs to report back for duty.” He stands up straight, putting his persona back on; a man permanently frowning who speaks with less of a drawl, “I’ll see you when you get here.”

Hanzo smiles and waves, and the call is disconnected. He leans back in his seat, swivelling the chair from side to side as he rests his linked fingers on his torso. A trip to America and a face-to-face catch up with the man who’s been on Hanzo’s mind for almost every waking moment for the last six weeks. It could not get better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The legend of [Teke Teke.](http://yokai.com/teketeke/)
> 
> The legend of the Sazae Oni from [here](https://hyakumonogatari.com/2013/06/25/sazae-oni-the-turban-shell-demon/) and [here.](http://yokai.com/sazaeoni/)


	2. The Inns

“Welcome to Maine,” Jesse says, arms outstretched as Hanzo and Genji approach. Genji, ever affectionate, embraces him in a bear hug and kisses him on the cheek while Hanzo very awkwardly approaches the man, not knowing whether he should shake his hand or hug him. 

A hug, it seems, as Jesse outstretches his arms and approaches Hanzo, pulling him in. Standing on his toes to meet Jesse’s height, he brings his arms up to embrace the man. Hanzo takes in his scent, a mix of faint cigar smoke on his clothes and a natural musk on his skin that is completely Jesse. He cups the back of Jesse’s neck, fingers gently brushing through his hair.

“Thank you,” Hanzo says, separating from Jesse. He looks at his appearance, and it is more boisterous than what he wore to Japan. “You wear boots with spurs?”

“Certainly do,” Jesse drawls, kicking out his leg, causing the spur to jangle. “Along with this here serape when I’m not workin’,” he says, picking a corner of the well-worn brown fabric draped over his shoulders, rubbing it between thumb and forefinger before letting it fall against his chest.

“And I see you don’t go anywhere without the hat either,” Genji adds, pointing to the black Stetson on his head. “Hey, you weren’t wearing your hat yesterday, thinking about it. I think that’s the first time I saw you without it.”

“Yep, when I’m playin’ agent I gotta look the part,” Jesse says, looking at the guitar case on Hanzo’s back. He points to it, asking, “I’m assumin’ that’s no ordinary guitar in there?”

“My bow, quiver and arrows, Genji’s katana, wakizashi and shuriken,” Hanzo informs him with a grin.

Jesse scoffs. “How’d you get  _ that  _ through customs?” 

“It is a simple misdirection spell,” Hanzo says with a smirk. He shrugs it off his shoulders, opening the zip on at the top of the case, revealing the headstock of an acoustic guitar.

“Well I’ll be…” He trails off, looking from the case to Hanzo, twinkle in his eye and a smile that makes Hanzo’s stomach flutter. “That’s a nifty trick, Hanzo.”

“Genji is the spell caster. I merely carry it because of how weighty my equipment is,” Hanzo says quietly, before he zips up the case and slings it over one shoulder. He looks at Jesse, wanting nothing more than to pull him down and kiss him. Biting his lip and telling himself that there will be plenty of time for fun after the hunt, he asks, “So, have there been any more cases of the Sazae Oni?”

“Straight to business, then,” Jesse says, a slight hint of disappointment carrying on his voice. He gestures to the front doors of the airport with an outstretched arm, walking in step with Hanzo. “Not yet. There were three days between each attack. That puts the next attack tonight.”

Hanzo nods. “Do you know what the next inn to be hit is?”

“Unfortunately, no,” Jesse says as they step outside. “There’s no real pattern to the hits.”

“So we wait for someone to have their nuts stolen?” Genji says, taking a breath and closing his eyes, tilting his head upwards to the sky.

Hanzo takes a moment to appreciate the sun streaming down from the cloudless sky. The change in weather is welcome and a stark contrast from the rainy season currently underway in Hanamura.

“We’ve got the day to try and figure it out,” Jesse starts, pulling a cigar stub and a matchbook from the breast pocket of his blue plaid shirt under his serape. He strikes a match and takes a few quick puffs to ignite the end before extinguishing the match with the flick of his wrist and tossing it in the trash. Grabbing the cigar between his knuckles, he exhales the smoke before adding, “It’ll be good to get some fresh eyes on the map. Maybe that’ll be the key we need.”

Hanzo nods. “I am eager to see the research you have done on this case.”

Gesturing with an extended arm, Jesse leads them down the footpath and into the parking lot. “As you already know, there isn’t much out there on the Sazae Oni. It’s almost embarrassingly lacking,” he chuckles.

“It is fine,” Hanzo brushes off. “Any research is good research.” He sideways glances at Genji.

Genji does a double take before realising Hanzo was talking about him. “Hey! Who was the one who identified we were dealing with a crossroads demon? Who was the one who reached out to the expert  _ on _ crossroads demons? Who was the one who got you laid? Hmm?”

Wrapping his arm around Genji’s shoulders, Hanzo pulls him in close, punching him on the arm lightly. “I only tease, Genji. We would not be as effective at doing what we do without you.” 

And it is true. Hanzo has lost count of the amount of times Genji had his back and saved his life, or would look at his research and figure out the breakthrough they needed. Having said all that, Genji teases him about Jesse, so he will tease Genji about his distaste for doing research.

“Damn straight,” Genji says, standing tall and proud. 

They pull up to an old, red pick-up truck. The bottom half is covered in caked on mud, and there are chips in the paint on the hood, revealing spots of rust underneath. 

Approaching the driver’s side, Jesse unlocks it with his keys before hopping in. Hanzo opens the door to the passenger side, noting that this truck has a bench-style front seat. A spark of excitement ripples through him as he has the thought of sitting right next to Jesse. Taking a breath in an effort to not get too carried away, he slips the guitar case off his shoulder and hands it to Genji. 

Rolling his eyes, Genji opens the back door to the truck. “Umm… Not much room back here,” Genji says, throwing the duffel bag containing their spare clothes in before sliding the guitar case behind the passenger side seat.  

Hanzo looks behind him and notices that the back seat is full of duffel bags and blankets. If Jesse is using his back seat for storage, then how full is the tray? Hanzo looks out the back window, but the tray is covered with a black truck bed cover.

“Sorry about that,” Jesse says, resting his arm on the back of his seat and looking over his shoulder. “There’ll be plenty enough room up here in the front with us.”

Genji looks at Hanzo and grins. “Sure thing, Jesse.”

Hanzo rolls his eyes and moves over. He fights the urge to sit right against Jesse, leaving a good couple of inches for good measure. If there is one thing to be grateful for, at least he has a reason to be close to Jesse.

“Move over!” Genji says, sitting mostly on the seat with his leg hanging out of the door. He pushes against Hanzo with his hip. 

Hanzo shuffles over, the left side of his body presses against Jesse. He looks at Jesse wide eyed, and Jesse tips his hat, winking. When Genji snickers, caught on to the awkward exchange, Hanzo elbows him in the ribs. He makes no attempt to move away from Jesse, though he holds his hands in his lap to fight the urge to slip his hand on Jesse’s thigh. 

Clearing his throat, Jesse starts the ignition. “So, remember those hunter brothers I mentioned yesterday?” He places the truck into drive, exiting the parking lot. “I realised I hadn’t asked them if they knew anythin’. They’ve got decades of documented hunts behind them.”

“Did they know anything?” Genji asks, leaning forward while holding onto the grab handle above of the door.

“Nah, they haven’t come across this thing either,” Jesse answers, rolling down the window and resting his elbow on the door of the truck, cigar between his fingers. “But they have offered their assistance. They’re down at the motel now goin’ over my research so far. Luckily they were in Vermont for another case.”

Genji gasps. “How exciting! I love working with other hunters!”

“I also told them to check out your videos, Genji,” Jesse says, puffing on his cigar.

“Oh, that’s a good idea!” Genji reaches into his hoodie pocket, pulling out his phone. “Do they have any videos? What are their names?”

Jesse laughs, “Nah, these guys don’t post stuff like that. They think it’s better not to burden the world with the things that go bump in the night.”

“They sound wise,” Hanzo mutters, looking at Genji who pokes his tongue out in response. 

“They’ll love to hear you say that,” Jesse says, looking at Hanzo and winking. The wink in person is so much better than on video chat, and makes his stomach flutter. He feels Genji nudge him with his elbow and does his best to stop himself from elbowing back, because he  _ knows  _ he will do damage.

“Can they be trusted?” Hanzo asks. He has worked with other hunters in the past without incident, but is always wary of new people, especially those he has not background checked himself. 

“Yeah, they’re good guys. I wouldn’t be workin’ with them if they weren’t.” Jesse takes another puff of his cigar, blowing the smoke out of the corner of his mouth towards the open window. “Their names are Sam and Dean Winchester.”

“No!” Genji yells, slamming his hand on Hanzo’s thigh annoyingly. Hanzo pushes his hand away. “The ones from those ‘Supernatural’ books?!”

Chuckling, Jesse says, “Oh, they’re gonna get a right kick out of you two.” He glances at Genji. “I didn’t think those books were available outside of the States.”

“I found them online,” Genji informs him. “They’re a great read, made even better since I discovered they were more than just fiction.”

“That they don’t like people knowin’ about,” Jesse warns. “How’d you figure it out?”

“I realised there were news stories coming out of the States which matched the stories from the books. It was too much of a coincidence for it to be fiction... The details in the books were too specific.”

“ _ This _ is what you spend your time researching?” Hanzo asks, exasperated.

“How I choose to spend my own time is none of your business. Just like whatever it is you do in your time is none of mine.” He folds his arms across his chest and a wicked grin flashes on his face. “Unless it involves me walking in on you –” Hanzo punches him in the shoulder before he can finish that statement.

Genji brings a hand up to his shoulder. “Ow! Hanzo!” He rubs at the spot, pulling his hoodie and shirt back to look at the red mark left behind. “That wasn’t necessary!”

“Yes, it was,” Hanzo grumbles, folding his arms across his chest. 

“Now, now, you two. Don’t make me separate you,” Jesse says, akin to a father scolding his children.

The rest of the drive to the motel is in silence, not that it took longer than five minutes to get there. Which was completely fine with Hanzo in any case; he spent the time thoroughly enjoying being pressed up against Jesse while watching him puff on his cigar, imagining those lips around a certain appendage. 

Pulling up to the motel, Genji bounces excitedly and squeals, causing the cab to bounce as the truck comes to a stop. “It’s the Impala.  _ The  _ Impala!” Genji exclaims, jumping out of the truck. He stands next to the black car, looking through the drivers’ side window. “Do you think he’ll let me drive it?”

“Nope, not a chance,” Jesse calls, climbing out of the truck. “Don’t touch her, either. He’s very protective.”

“I’m  _ so _ going to die if I get the chance to ride in it,” Genji gushes, walking around the car.

Hanzo rolls his eyes as he grabs the guitar case and duffel bag from the back seat, closing the door and standing next to Jesse as Genji finishes his inspection. He thrusts the gym bag into Genji’s chest, letting go when Genji brings his hands up, holding the underside of the bag. “You are such a child.”

“Are you incapable of excitement, Hanzo?” Genji asks deadpan.

“I do not know,” Hanzo shrugs. “You should ask Jesse,” Hanzo says to Jesse with a wink, approaching the motel reception to check in. He grins smugly when he hears Genji groan and yell, “Eww! Keep that to yourself!”

The front door to the reception opens with a ding from the bell attached to the door. Hanzo approaches the counter, greeted by a round, balding man in a food stained white singlet who does not look up from the newspaper he is reading. 

“Shimada,” Hanzo states simply after a moment. The man begrudgingly sets the newspaper aside as he types on the computer; an old, grey boxy CRT monitor Hanzo was not aware even existed anymore. From there he notices the yellow water stains on the ceiling, the trail of ants along the windowsill and the fishbowl of green water on the table behind the counter. He crinkles his nose and takes a half step back.  _ That _ explains why this motel was so cheap.

When Hanzo is handed the key to the room, he is joined by Jesse and Genji. He looks at the key in his hand, holding it from the keyring after he notices something dry and crusty on the strip of leather with the room number on it.

“Ah, room eleven, right next door to mine,” Jesse informs him, leaning on the counter with one elbow.

Hanzo looks at him and smiles, instantly forgetting the grossness of the motel. “Not far to travel if I wish to seek out your company.”

Jesse clears his throat and stands to full height as Genji groans behind him. Joking at his own expense to embarrass Genji is becoming a favourite thing of his now that he knows how Genji reacts. He will have to remember this for future reference.

Hanzo bows his head to the motel owner and they head to room eleven to drop off their luggage. Hanzo keeps the guitar case on him, not trusting the security of the motel. His weapons are always on his person when possible.

Jesse opens the door to his room, walking in and standing to the side, arm extended. The room itself is small, a bed off to the right side of the room and kitchenette on the left. They are greeted by two men sitting at the small rectangular dining table against the back wall, both of whom stand up when he and Genji enter the room.

Hanzo takes a moment to analyse them on the approach to the table. Dressed almost identically, one is in a red plaid button down and the other in an open navy blue shirt with a black t-shirt underneath. Both have their sleeves rolled up to their elbows and are in blue jeans. 

He then realises that he and Genji are dressed just as identically, black hoodie atop black jeans. Ignoring that fact, he outstretches his right hand and introduces himself. “Hanzo Shimada.”

The taller of the two leans in first. “Sam Winchester.” He has a strong grip and is taller than Hanzo himself. Looking at him, he’s even taller than Jesse. 

Hanzo glances at the shorter man, who is also taller than him. He stands up straight, drawing his shoulders back as he curses his five-foot-eight height. 

“Dean,” the man says simply, outstretching his hand before Hanzo accepts it; stronger grip than his brother. 

Hanzo looks between the two men and notes the weariness in their eyes, the gruffness of their voices. They are tired. They are strained. They look almost as if they have the weight of the world on their shoulders.

The mood is lightened when Genji skips over. “Genji Shimada, huge fan!” he says, outstretching his right hand, squealing as he shakes each of the men’s hands.

“Well, that’s a bit too excited for someone who’s spent the last eighteen hours on a plane,” Dean mumbles, analysing Genji, fixated on his green hair. “Nice hair.”

“Thank you!!” Genji screeches, running his fingers through his bangs before flicking his head to get it out of his eyes. He then adds, “I slept on the plane, so I’m all good,” as he stuffs his hands in his jeans pockets and rocks back and forth from the balls to the heels of his feet. 

“Can I get you fellas anythin’?” Jesse asks, opening the fridge. 

Shaking his head, Hanzo looks from Genji to the table, noting the two sweating bottles of beer. He takes note of the time on the digital clock by the bed, reading 10:45 a.m. Shrugging, and knowing full well the time in Hanamura at the moment is almost midnight, he answers, “Beer, if you have,” as he shoulders off the guitar case and places it against the bed.

“Me too,” Genji chimes in. 

Dean chuckles, sitting back down at the table. “Good choice. I like you guys. And I even say that  _ after _ I watched your videos.”

Genji squeals again, taking a seat at the table, propping his head on top of his hands. “What did you think? Pretty cool, huh?”

Dean opens his mouth to speak but Sam holds up his hand, prompting Dean to roll his eyes and close his mouth. Sam sits down, stating, “We prefer not to document our hunts. The people out there,” he glances to the door, “they don’t understand.”

“Jesse warned us,” Hanzo says, taking the beer from Jesse’s hand, bowing his head and thanking him as he takes a seat at the table. “We will not document this hunt if you do not wish us to.” Hanzo looks at Genji who nods at him as Jesse hands him his beer.

“I’ll tell you though,” Dean starts, rubbing his chin, “You two know how to handle yourself in a fight. That right there is a load off my mind.” He takes a pull of beer as he looks at the guitar case, pointing. “Bow in there?”

Hanzo nods, glancing at it before looking back at Dean. “Indeed.”

“And I’m assuming you’ve used some sort of misdirection spell?” Sam asks. 

“Yep,” Genji answers. He places his beer on the table and stands up, grabbing the case and opening it, showing the men the guitar inside. Resting it on his lap, he closes the top and places his hands over it, closing his eyes and reciting the spell, voice barely a whisper. With a grin, he opens the case again, revealing their weapons.

“So you’re witches,” Dean states flatly. Hanzo tries to read the man but he remains expressionless.

“Shaman, actually,” Genji corrects. “We come from a long line of them, though I dabble in witchcraft too.”

“You’re quite the bag of tricks,” Dean comments, slight disapproval in his tone. He takes a swig of beer. 

Sam frowns, glancing at Dean before turning his attention back to Hanzo. “Being shaman, do you consult with animal spirits?”

Hanzo glances at Genji, shaking his head subtly, before answering, “We commune with our ancient guardians for guidance, yes.”

“You don’t post videos of you communing with your ‘ancient guardians’,” Dean says with a smirk.

“I share your mentality that the world is not prepared for things they cannot understand,” Hanzo answers, keeping his tone neutral even though he is annoyed by the man.

“I noticed you don’t use equipment in your hunts, EMF and stuff like that,” Dean continues his interrogation, “that ‘cause you ask your animal friends?”

His annoyance ticking into anger, Hanzo looks at Jesse leaning against the bench in the kitchenette, who offers a smile and a shrug. He should not be surprised these men have questions, though he wishes that it did not devolve into childish name calling.

He sees Sam backhand Dean in the shoulder and they have a silent conversation. He looks back at Jesse who mouths ‘sorry’ and winks. Hanzo smiles; that is enough to put a lid on his anger. 

Taking a breath, he looks at Dean and nods. “They are effective at detecting yōkai in a given area.”

“So you’ll be able to locate this Sazae Oni?” Sam asks.

Hanzo inhales and holds his breath, thinking of the best way to explain this without revealing family secrets. Exhaling, he answers, “Every yōkai has a unique aura, if you will. It is how our guardians can identify them. As we have not encountered a Sazae Oni before, the aura will not be recognised.”

“So it’s almost like your immune system,” Sam says, leaning forward in his seat and resting his forearms on the table. “It needs to fight the yōkai in order to remember it for future reference?”

Hanzo nods. “Indeed. On top of that, seeking out a specific yōkai is incredibly taxing. There is a lot of evil in this world, you put down one yōkai and five take its place,” he sighs, rubbing his chin.

“You’re preaching to the choir there,” Dean muses before leaning forward in his seat, resting his forearms on the table, a direct mirror image to Sam. Hanzo notes this is the first time his posture has relaxed. “So are there any tips or tricks on how to defeat the Sazae Oni?”

“I consulted my folklore books,” Hanzo starts, pulling out his phone from his hoodie pocket. He swipes through the scanned images of the book, settling on the ancient hand-drawn picture of a giant sea snail protruding out of its shell, with human arms and two large, human eyes on top of its head. He shows the picture to Sam and Dean.

“That’s what we’re dealing with?” Dean asks, eyebrows raised in surprised.

“She can shapeshift,” Hanzo informs him, “she will most likely not look like that when we encounter her.” 

“Shifters…” Dean mutters, rubbing his eyes with a thumb and finger.

“There is no known method for dispatching a Sazae Oni,” Hanzo continues. “If I had to guess, she is indeed collecting the victim’s testicles to breed. Given a sazae will breed by laying eggs, she would have a nest. Destroying it would at the very least get her attention.”

“How would you suppose we destroy the nest?” Dean asks. “We don’t have the time to randomly throw everything we’ve got at it.”

“Hanzo,” Genji whispers. He stands up and Hanzo stands with him, they take a few steps away from the table. Switching to Japanese, Genji asks, “ _ We should tell them about the dragons. That’s your train of thought, yeah?” _

“ _ I do not wish to tell them about the dragons,” _ Hanzo answers, glancing at the men at the table. _ “They might be comfortable with the fact we are shaman, but they might also see us as something to be hunted. That is what nearly drove us extinct centuries ago.”  _

_ “Sorry to interrupt. But we’re not in the business of hunting those who help us.” _

Eyebrows knitted together, they both slowly turn to Dean, who is standing at the table, arms crossed against his chest with a smug grin on his face.

“You know Japanese?” Hanzo asks. He looks at Genji who shrugs.

“Enough to get by,” Dean answers, gesturing to the table with his hand. 

They take a seat, and Hanzo looks at Jesse. He offers a smile, and it does nothing to ease Hanzo’s apprehension, because this is a closely guarded secret that not even Jesse knows about. He wipes his clammy hands on his jeans, and the only thing keeping Hanzo here to face  _ this  _ is the trust he holds in Jesse. 

“So… dragons, huh?” Dean prompts after a few moments of silence, eyebrow raised.

Hanzo inhales and exhales slowly, glancing at Genji. “Our guardians are dragons. We can summon them, however we use them sparingly as the summoning process is strenuous. They are used as a last resort.”

“And you think your dragons can take out the Sazae Oni?” Jesse asks.

“It is a hypothesis,” Hanzo says, nodding. “The dragons have not failed us previously.”   

The room is silent for a good minute as the three men no doubt process this information. Hanzo feels exposed, not only because he and Genji got caught speaking Japanese, but because this is the first time they have spoken to  _ anyone _ outside of the family about their dragons. The hunts where they have to resort to using them, the footage is destroyed. That, at least, is something Genji knows the world is  _ not _ ready for.

“That explains the tattoos, then,” Jesse says finally, breaking the silence. Hanzo jerks to look at Jesse, who waggles his eyebrows playfully. 

“Tattoos?” Dean asks, brow furrowed.

Closing his eyes, Hanzo unzips his hoodie and shrugs it off. He rests his left arm on the table and the two men gape at the tattoo. Brushing his fingers over the blue dragon’s maw, Dean grabs Hanzo’s hand and flips his arm over, eyes trailing its body as it coils up his arm against a backdrop of storm clouds and lightning before it disappears under his t-shirt. Hanzo does his best not to recoil under the touch, allowing the men to analyse it, as much as he is despising watching their eyes rake up and down his arm. 

“Where does it stop?” Dean asks, looking at Hanzo’s chest.

Hanzo taps his pectoral.

“And it ain’t the only one he’s got,” Jesse smirks.

Hanzo looks from Jesse to Sam and Dean, then back to Jesse. If it were anyone else, Hanzo would have snapped and told him it was none of their business. He knows though that Jesse is a man who lays his cards on the table, and he apparently deems the tattoos as something to be shared. 

Taking a breath, Hanzo glances at Genji before he stands up, placing his right leg on the chair, pulling up his jeans up to his knee. He reveals an identical tattoo, this time the fanned tail of the dragon starts on his shin just above his ankle, and coils around his leg, disappearing under his jeans.

“How far does that one go?” Dean asks, quirking an eyebrow.

“It finishes on my hip,” Hanzo grunts as he pulls down the cuff of his jeans and takes a seat. He looks at his beer and takes large pull. He would list that as one of the most embarrassing and objectifying things he has ever done.

The examination continues when Dean looks from Hanzo to Genji, and that’s all it takes before Genji is standing up and lifting his shirt, turning around and revealing the large green dragon which decorates his back; the head of the dragon starts just below his shoulder blades, the body curls upwards before snaking down his back, the tail finishing on his hip. The rest of his back is decorated in leaves and flowers of pinks and purples.

“That is some seriously impressive ink,” Dean says after a moment. “Must’ve been painful to endure.” He pulls down the collar of his shirt, revealing a tattoo of a monochromatic pentagram surrounded in flames just under his collarbone. An anti-possession tattoo, and identical in design to the one on Jesse’s left forearm. “This hurt like a bitch.”

“The only thing painful about the tattoo was sitting in one spot for hours,” Genji says, flipping his chair around and straddling it. 

“So Shamans who can summon dragons,” Dean says, looking at Sam. “Can’t say we’ve ever crossed paths with  _ that  _ before.” He looks at Hanzo, smug grin on his face.

Hanzo narrows his eyes at Dean, and frankly he is pissed off with his attitude. If Jesse had not said he had worked with them previously, he would have the mind to walk out and find the Sazae Oni on his own. He looks at Genji, who is looking at them like they are celebrities. He huffs, folding his arms over his chest. Genji is an excellent judge in character, and if he had issues with the men he would make it clear, regardless of his fanboy attitude. 

“Well it seems we’ve got the means to destroy the Sazae Oni, we just need to know where,” Sam says, looking back at the map on the table and grabbing either side in his hands. 

“May I?” Genji asks, looking at the map.

“Sure.” Sam places it on the table, sliding it to Genji.

Genji flips it around, showing a map of the Portland coast and inns and motels along it. It has five red crosses on it with numbers above each. Left to right, the numbers are ‘4’, ‘2’, ‘1’, and ‘3’. The distance between motels increases with each one hit.

“We suspect the fifth to be hit is somewhere east of three given the pattern, we just don’t know which one,” Jesse says, standing behind Genji.

Genji hums, bringing his right hand up to his face, tapping his index finger on his lips. With his left, he traces back and forth between the numbers in sequence, over and over until he claps his hands, grinning wide. “It’s the Fibonacci sequence!” 

Sam brings a hand up to his face. “Of course! It’s so obvious.”

“Fibo-what?” Dean asks, frowning.

“A math equation where a number is found by adding the two before it,” Sam explains, “that’s why the gap between the motels increases with each hit.” 

“Do you have a pen?” Genji asks, and Jesse grabs one off the bench and hands it to him. He draws a spiral, counting the motels and crossing through the motels hit so far. He nods, until he finds the fifth, circling it. “Here, she’ll be here next.”

“Great job, Genji,” Jesse says, clapping him on the back. “I’ve been starin’ at this map for the last week and I couldn’t figure it out.” Chuckling, he adds, “I’m more of a street-smarts kind of a guy.”

“Hah, yeah, you’re not the only one,” Dean mumbles. “So why that sequence?” 

“The spiral occurs naturally on snail shells,” Genji answers. 

“Of course it does,” Dean mutters. “Well, good breakthrough, kid.”

Genji shrugs. “It was nothing.”

“It was not nothing, Genji,” Hanzo says, placing a hand on Genji’s shoulder. “If you had not figured it out, we could have been dealing with two more bodies tomorrow.”

“And you call Hanzo the bookworm,” Jesse chuckles.

“He is. Always got his nose deep in some lore book,” Genji says, looking at Hanzo. He takes a breath, shrugging, “I’m just good with patterns.”

“Hanzo sounds like you, Sammy,” Dean says, standing up. “How about you two nerds get acquainted, me, Jesse n’ Genji can pick up some lunch.”

Genji’s gasps as his eyes light up, eyebrows raised in surprise. “In your car?!”

“Yeah, in my car. I saw  _ and _ heard you praising the hell out of it. Figured the least I can do is take you for a ride,” he says, grabbing his jacket from the back of his chair and sliding it on.

“Fuck yes!” Genji stands up and kisses Hanzo’s head. “See you in a bit, anija!”

“Please do not get something dripping in grease,” Hanzo calls out as Genji steps away.

“Ugh, fine, we’ll find a sandwich or something,” Genji mutters, approaching Dean. “Don’t mind him, he’s a health nut.”

“Hah. Something else those two have in common,” Dean gestures over his shoulder with his thumb. He opens the front door, glancing at the table. “Jesse, you coming?”

“Nah, I might hang out with these health nut bookworms,” Jesse answers, taking a seat next to Hanzo.

Dean shrugs. “Suit yourself.” He looks at Genji, asking, “How about pie? You like pie?”

“Uhh, yeah! Who doesn’t like pie?!” Genji says enthusiastically.

“All right,” Dean says, looking back and grinning eagerly, before closing the door.

Hanzo frowns, looking at the door. He is not surprised that Genji was that ecstatic about riding in a car, and he is not surprised Dean has separated the both of them. He takes a breath as he turns to Sam, he knows Genji can look after himself if required, even absent of his weapons. 

Sam’s frown eases into a smile as he says, “Don’t mind Dean. It’s not very often he comes across someone as enthusiastic as he is about food.”

“We will be eating the unhealthiest lunch possible, won’t we?” Hanzo groans, already feeling somewhat sick to his stomach. 

“Yep, most likely,” Sam answers, leaning back in his seat. He looks at Jesse. “I’m surprised you decided to hang back. You’re not one to pass up a ride in the Impala.”

Jesse smirks, glancing at Hanzo. “I figured I’d catch up with Hanzo. Besides, those two individually are full on. Together, I don’t think anyone will be able to tolerate that.”

Sam smiles, “Yeah.” He takes a pull of beer, looking at Hanzo. “So, how’d you two get into hunting?”

“It is all we have known.” 

“Hmm, that sounds familiar,” Sam says, frowning. “One of two stories really, born into it, or…”

“Forced into  it after the death of a loved one,” Jesse finishes. He looks at Hanzo, small, sad smile on his face. “Pa, by the hands of a demon.”

Hanzo nods, reaching for Jesse’s hand on the table and holding it. Jesse never did disclose how he got into hunting when previously asked, always deflecting the question. He had told Hanzo that he had been hunting for nearly twenty years, making him a child when he lost his father. Based on the frown on his face, his unfocused vision; it is something he must have witnessed. 

Right now, Hanzo wants nothing more than to hold him and kiss away those wrinkles between his brows. 

“I’ll fill you in one day,” Jesse says finally, squeezing Hanzo’s hand. He takes a long pull of beer.

Hanzo hums, looking at the map, thinking that a change of topic might be better for him right now. “If the Sazae Oni is breeding, we should figure out where her nest might be.”

Jesse clears his throat. “I’ve looked down the coast for a cave or somethin’ hidden from sight, something close to those motels,” he taps the map at inns one and two, “but I couldn’t spot anything out of the ordinary.”

“Perhaps it is mobile?” Hanzo offers.

“Wait…” Sam starts, shaking his head, “One part of the lore I read said that it could have been born from a lustful woman who was thrown into the ocean as punishment. What if she doesn’t have a nest? What if –”

“She’s pregnant,” Jesse finishes, bringing a hand up to his face and rubbing his chin.

“Or perhaps she is not yet,” Hanzo proposes. “If she is still hunting then it is possible that she is still yet to conceive.”

Jesse lets out a big sigh. “Well, whatever it is, our best chance at stoppin’ her is to catch her at the next motel.”

Hanzo nods. Ever the pessimist, he cannot help but think that they have missed their opportunity. Considering they do not know much about the hunting cycle of a Sazae Oni, considering this one has the attributes of both legends, there are still too many unknowns. And if there is something Hanzo  _ hates _ when hunting, it is not knowing all of the facts.

Broken from his thoughts by a phone ringing, Hanzo looks at Sam who is reaching into a pocket on his jacket hanging over the chair. 

Sam huffs, lips pressed into a thin line as he stands up. “Excuse me,” he says quickly, hurriedly walking out outside.

“Sorry about the interrogation,” Jesse says softly, rubbing his thumb over Hanzo’s knuckles. “They said they had questions. I didn’t think Dean would be that full on.”

“It is fine. I should have expected it.” Hanzo smiles, “Honestly, I was not as apprehensive about the situation because I trust you.”

Jesse smirks, turning in his seat to face Hanzo. “That so?”

Hanzo raises an eyebrow and stands up, pulling Jesse up with him and walking him to the bed. They might only have a few minutes, but Hanzo cannot wait any longer to kiss every inch of the man’s face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jesse is wearing his 'On The Range' skin in this fic. That boy in light blue plaid is my favourite thing.


	3. The Hunt

“Seriously, what it with you guys and kid ghosts?” Dean asks as he opens the door, white cardboard box and paper bag in hand. “It’s friggin’ freaky.”

“It’s not like you haven’t come across your fair share of ghost children,” Genji says, following Dean in and closing the door with his foot. He is holding two paper bags and a cardboard holder of drinks which might as well be small buckets.

Hanzo places his phone in his pocket before taking a pull of beer as he glances and winks at Jesse. He sees Sam shift uncomfortably in the corner of his eye. They may have got caught kissing. Hanzo may have been sitting in Jesse’s lap and hands may have been up shirts.

Dean places the box down on the small bench in the kitchenette and the paper bag on the table. “I thought it was a Hollywood thing with the long black hair and the screeching.” He pulls out three large portions of fries from the bag. “Your videos prove otherwise.”

Placing the food down, Genji answers, “One of the few things those guys got right.” He looks at Hanzo, large grin on his face. “Hanzo, they’ve got these quadruple pattie burgers. _Four patties._ The thing is a beast!”

Looking at the bags, Hanzo can see the grease staining the sides and bottom of the paper, and the smell is anything _but_ appealing. “When we get home, you will be joining me at the gym every day for two weeks,” he scolds. “And please do not tell me you got me one of those.”

“Nah,” Genji chuckles, reaching into one of the bags.  “I asked for something healthy from their sandwich menu and they said the turkey club was relatively healthy.” Genji pulls a large, wrapped sandwich from the bag, before pulling out a second and placing it in front of Sam.

“Relatively?” Hanzo questions, looking at the monstrosity in front of him. Easily two inches high and foot long. At the very least it is not covered in grease. When Genji grabs out the behemoth of a burger, something that is easily five inches tall, Hanzo shakes his head, saying, “No, not two weeks, two months!”

“We don’t get to travel much, Hanzo,” Genji says, handing smaller burgers to Jesse and to Dean. “You should live a little.”

“The human body was not made to process _that,”_ Hanzo frowns, looking at the burger. His stomach roils at the thought of eating it.

“Don’t tell me you’re one of those ‘my body is a temple’ kinda guys?” Dean says with a grin.

“I have no problems with indulging in something unhealthy from time to time,” Hanzo says, glancing at the burger in Dean’s hands, double pattie, cheese and bacon poking out, before looking at Genji’s next to him. “But indulging in something clearly made to give one a heart attack is another thing entirely.”

“Says the person who eats a whole strawberry shortcake at Christmas,” Genji says with a wink.

“Ah, so a sweet tooth, then,” Dean says, mouth full of food. He chews and swallows before adding, “We picked up a classic apple pie.” He gestures to the bench with the flick of his head. Taking another bite, he looks at Sam, chewing and swallowing before asking, “So, what did you three get up to?”

It takes more effort than required for Hanzo to hide his smirk when Sam takes a sharp intake of air and shakes his head, avoiding eye contact with Dean as he eats his sandwich.

\----------

“This place looks expensive,” Dean mutters, leaning against his car.

It is a charming looking inn, white weatherboards with blue doors and window shutters and black shingled roof. It overlooks the ocean and is exactly the kind of place the Sazae Oni would target. Hanzo sighs, wishing he was staying here instead, because this inn and the dingy, run-down motel they are staying in are on opposite ends of the accommodation spectrum.

“I can cover the room charges,” Hanzo says, guitar case in hand, looking at the inn. He and Jesse took the truck to the inn, Genji of course rode with Dean and Sam in the Impala, giving Hanzo and Jesse the opportunity to catch up and hold hands on the short drive without running commentary from a certain annoying younger brother.

“Mini bar too?” Dean asks, grinning.

“Dean,” Sam scolds from the other side of the car, forearms resting on the roof and hands clasped together. “It’s fine, we can pay for the room.”

“Fellas,” Jesse pipes up, “I asked you all to help, I’ll pay for the room.”

“At least let us pitch in,” Genji offers, standing next to Dean, arms folded over his chest and legs crossed at the ankles, mirroring Dean. “Split it five ways.”

Everyone is a bundle of collective shrugs and nods, before Jesse eventually says, “All right, we split it five ways.”

“So what’s the cover?” Sam asks.

“Hanzo n’ I were brainstorming, and we were thinkin’ bachelor party,” Jesse answers.

“Yeah, that could work,” Dean says, nodding and looking at the inn. “We’re just a bunch of boring guys who enjoy a quiet drink and knitting and are in no way interested in strippers.”

“Let’s do a combination Hanzo and Jesse bachelor party, they –” Genji bursts into laughter, bringing his hand up to his mouth in an attempt to stifle it.

Hanzo elbows Genji in the ribs, seething, “Can you try to be professional?”

“Hey, you know what, Sammy, it can be _your_ bachelor party,” Dean says, looking from Sam to the inn. “You’d have it at some place like this.”

Sam scoffs. “If you were planning my bachelor party, you’d bring me here?”

“Well… I…” Dean stammers, stopping as Sam walks around the car and heads towards the reception, outstretching his arms as he turns around after realising no one was following. “No…” Dean says to himself as he follows Sam.

The group enter the reception, and Jesse approaches the counter where they are greeted by a woman; short, curly grey hair and red horn-rimmed glasses perched on her nose.

“Good afternoon, ma’am. We’re after a room for Nelson, we called just a bit ago.”

“Oh of course, the lovely gentleman who asked for the largest room available,” the woman says, looking at her computer. She walks to the pigeon holes behind her, grabbing the key. “What do you boys have planned for this evening?”

“Bachelor party,” Jesse answers. “Nice, quiet evening of drinks and board games planned.”

“Well, that is very nice,” she says with a smile, looking between the five of them. “Who’s the groom to be?”

“These two!” Genji exclaims without missing a beat, draping his arms over Jesse’s and Hanzo’s shoulders. “It was a quick thing, love at first sight!”

Hanzo closes his eyes and it takes all of his willpower not to pummel Genji right here right now. He eases into a smile and accepts the persona, grabbing Jesse’s hand in his. “We are madly in love and could not wait to get married.”

“Ah, well then, congratulations to you both,” she says with a smile.

“Thank you, ma’am,” Jesse responds with the tip of his hat. “Say, I don’t suppose you have any tips for a long and happy life together?”

“Cherish every moment together, and don’t take each other for granted,” she says, reserved. She looks at her left hand, playing with her rings. “We were married for fifty six years, we built this inn together.” She looks up and smiles, eyes slightly teary. “Now it’s just me.”

“My condolences, ma’am,” Jesse says softly, taking his hat off his head.

“Thank you.” She sniffles, looking at the key in her hand. “This is your room. If you need anything at all, please don’t hesitate to let me know.” She extends her hand with a smile and Jesse takes the key.

“Of course, ma’am. You have yourself a lovely afternoon,” Jesse says, placing his hat on his head and tipping it once more.

“Same to you, and congratulations again.”

The group turn to leave, and neither Hanzo nor Jesse let go of each other’s hand. Might as well enjoy it. They walk hand in hand until they reach room twenty-eight, a double suite on the second floor.

“This could prove troublesome,” Jesse says as the door is closed behind them. He looks at Hanzo and takes back his hand, looking at his palm. He smiles for a brief moment before taking a breath. “The innkeeper here’s a woman. Every victim so far has been male.”

“That explains your odd interest in a long and happy life,” Genji mutters, standing against the armrest of the couch before falling backwards onto it. “No male innkeeper.”

“It is possible she would target someone else,” Hanzo offers, resting the guitar case against the wall. “A barkeeper, perhaps?”

“Maybe,” Dean sighs, slumping into an armchair. “Maybe we put our eggs in the wrong basket.”

“Nah, if she’s followin’ a sequence, she’ll be here,” Jesse says confidently, looking at Genji.

“Maybe we should head down to the bar,” Genji suggests, “see if there’s a woman there skulking around, acting suspiciously, trying to lure men and steal their balls.”

“Her nest might be mobile considering Jesse could not locate it on the beach,” Hanzo muses. “It could be in a vehicle or in one of the rooms, perhaps? We could split up.”

Dean nods. “I like Genji’s idea. Let’s check out the bar, see if anyone’s looking suspicious. Jesse, you could sweet-talk the owner into telling you about any people who checked in over the last couple of days, see if any of them are single women.”

Jesse nods. “Yep, I could do that for ya,” he says with a wink to Hanzo.

“We shouldn’t split up until we’ve got eyes on her,” Sam adds, “we don’t want to tip her off.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Genji says, swinging his legs over the armrest and sitting up in one fluid movement.

“All right,” Dean says, standing up and clapping his hands. “Let’s get a drink!

The five of them head to the bar, a small room with open bifold doors which overlooks the water. The gentle breeze carrying on the ocean fills the space with a comfortable warmth. Hanzo looks at the bar, and confirming his suspicions, the person behind the bar is indeed male.

“Yep, this is where we should stay tonight,” Dean says quietly with an eager grin, breaking from the group to order at the bar.

Hanzo does a scan of the small room. The mahogany bar sits at the back of the room, shelves of alcohol on the wall behind him. The rest of the walls are decorated with paintings of various seabirds. There are a dozen tables with blue arm chairs, all of which face the ocean. The room is relatively empty, two elderly couples and a family with two young kids.   

They join Dean at the bar and there are five shots waiting for them.

“Whiskey,” Dean says, picking up a glass. “Bottom’s up!”

Hanzo picks up a glass, downs the lot and places the glass back on the bar; a chorus of four more glasses hit the bar.

“Another?” Dean asks, smirking.

Hanzo shakes his head, but it is Sam who speaks. “Maybe we should pace ourselves?”

Dean grumbles something quietly under his breath and orders five beers. Hanzo grabs his wallet and places his credit card on the bar, telling the bartender to open a tab. That earns him a clap on the back from Dean and a kiss on the cheek from Genji.

Glasses in hand, they make their way to a round table. Hanzo pulls up a fifth chair and they squeeze around it.

“I still can’t believe there’s a monster out there that steals testicles,” Dean says, shaking his head.

“Oh! I got another one!” Genji exclaims, grinning and looking at Dean.

“Shoot!”

“What did the left nut say to the right nut?”

And with that, Hanzo tunes out of the ‘conversation’. He should not be surprised that Genji has devolved into telling dick jokes. He should also not be surprised that Dean is laughing as hard as he is at said jokes. The two have almost identical personalities. But a part of him is disappointed, because he had hoped that Genji would remain semi-professional on this job.

Looking out to the ocean, he realises that he is being too hard on Genji. They would not be here if Genji had not figured out the pattern. He takes a gulp of beer and enjoys the rather striking view, looking at the horizon, watching the occasional sailboat cross into view. He tunes in and out of the conversation on occasion, listening to see if it has shifted from something less profane.

He is pulled from his thoughts when he feels fingertips ghost on top of his hand. A tanned hand rests on the armrest of his chair; he follows the blue plaid sleeve to a scruffy beard and finally chestnut brown eyes. Jesse winks and smiles softly when they make eye contact, and Hanzo smiles back. Hanzo opens his hand, palm up and Jesse weaves his fingers between Hanzo’s.

Hanzo has enjoyed all of the body contact he has had with Jesse so far; the hand holding, the kissing, feeling that carpet of hair on his chest. And he is looking forward to spending the night with him when this hunt is over, along with all the extra time he and Genji plan on taking since they have not booked return flights yet.

A few beats of unexpected silence breaks Hanzo from his thoughts once more. Genji is mid gulp and apparently insistent on downing the entire glass right now, Sam is buried in his phone, Jesse is looking at him through heavy lidded eyes and Dean is looking at the bar.

“So, the Sazae Oni is from Japanese mythology,” Dean says.

Narrowing his eyes and wondering why he is stating the obvious, Hanzo answers, “Yes…”

“And it shapeshifts into a beautiful woman to lure men.”

“Yeah, we know this, Dean,” Sam says, frustrated.

“I know,” Dean bites back. Glancing at the bar, he brings his voice down, “I think she’s just walked in.”

Hanzo takes a moment as everyone subtly glances at the bar before he does himself, eyeing the woman in a white sundress. Her back is turned to them, but she has long black hair which goes down to her waist and is wearing a pair of red sandals. She is handed her drink, some yellow cocktail with a pineapple wedge and strawberry stuck on the rim of the glass, and turns around, scanning the bar.

Hanzo turns around and nods. “That is a fair assumption.”

“All right,” Jesse says, sitting up. “Now’s probably the best time to split up. Someone needs to keep eyes on her at all times.”

“Oh that’ll be easy,” Dean says with a smirk, glancing past them.

Sam shakes his head. “I can check vehicles.”

“We’ll go to the reception,” Jesse says, looking at Hanzo. “I want you with me. If things go south we’ll want one of your dragons ready.”

Hanzo’s pulse quickens as he repeats _“I want you with me”_ over and over in his mind. Jesse looks at him, smile growing on his face. Hanzo breaks free of his stupor, nodding for confirmation.

“We’ll stay in communication at all times,” Sam says as he pulls his phone out of his pocket and taps it in his hand. He looks between Dean and Genji, both dead to the discussion as they stare at the woman. “I guess you two should stay here, then.” When they do not answer, Sam clears his throat and says, “Guys, not a real woman, remember. Testicle thief…?”

They hum and nod in acknowledgement, and Hanzo can only shake his head. He really cannot believe there is someone with the same mannerisms as his brother.

Standing up, Hanzo places a hand on Jesse’s shoulder. “We will stay in contact.”

Sam stands up, looking at Dean and Genji, shaking his head before looking at Hanzo. “Stay safe.”

“You too,” Jesse says standing up, and Hanzo bows his head.

Walking hand in hand with Jesse, they walk past the suspected Sazae Oni, sitting in a chair enjoying her drink while looking out to the ocean. She blends in so well, it is of no wonder she made it as far as she did.

Doubts start to flood his mind once more, and the uncertainty of this hunt is starting to throw him. There are too many things could go wrong, and too many innocent people could get hurt.

“We will have to be certain she is the Sazae Oni before we do anything drastic,” Hanzo says as they turn a corner.

“Don’t worry, we’ll be sure,” Jesse reassures. “We’re not in the business of goin’ in with guns blazing.”

Hanzo takes a breath and nods. “I do not like the uncertainty surrounding this hunt.”

“Yeah, it’s a bit messy but when you’re workin’ on a tight deadline you have to take what you can get.”

They take another corner and approach the reception. Hanzo sees the woman from earlier sitting at the counter, lost in a book.

Slowing his pace, Hanzo whispers, “You start the conversation, but follow my lead.”

Jesse looks down and nods, squeezing his hand as they make the approach to the desk.

“Excuse me, ma’am,” Jesse starts, taking his hat off his head. “I was wondering if you would help us out with something.”

“Of course,” she says, placing a crossword puzzle book and pencil down before standing up.

“We are waiting for my cousin,” Hanzo continues, grabbing his phone out of his pocket and holding it up, “but I cannot get in contact with her.” He smiles and rolls his eyes. “She has a habit of forgetting to charge her phone. Would you happen to know if she has arrived?”

“Oh,” she says with a smile, “she wouldn’t happen to be about your age, long hair and white dress, by chance?”

Hanzo smiles. “Yes, that is her.”

“She checked in just half an hour ago,” she says, looking at the computer.

“Perfect.” Jesse turns to Hanzo. “Reckon we should surprise her at her room?”

Hanzo frowns, looking at his phone. “I do not know what room she is in.”

“She checked into room twenty-four,” the woman says, barely a whisper. Hanzo looks at her and she winks.

“Thank you for your help,” Hanzo says, bowing his head.

“Yes, ma’am,” Jesse adds, “You’ve been a might helpful.”

“Anything to help two fine young gentlemen,” the woman answers, sitting back down.

Jesse places his hat back on his head and tips it, before they take their leave and head towards the rooms. Hanzo feels a bit guilty, preying on the goodness of an elderly woman, but this could be the difference between life and death of two innocent people.

When they clear a corner, Jesse says, “Good work on the cousin alibi. Very clever.”

Hanzo smiles. “Good work on picking up the story.”

“We work well together.”

Hanzo hums, squeezing Jesse’s hand. He can feel the heat creeping up his cheeks and his pulse quickens. Working well together is not the only thing they’re good at, and now he wants nothing more than to have that round three. “Perhaps when we are done we can stay here tonight. The room is paid for, after all.”

Jesse chuckles. “This place certainly is better than the place we’re stayin’ at.”

“Anywhere would be better than the place we are staying at.” They take a flight of stairs to the second floor. “I do hope you are not staying at motels like that all the time.”

“Nah, only when on hunts. Otherwise I’m home in Santa Fe.”

Hanzo smiles, “Perhaps I could visit one day.”

Jesse hums, nudging him in the shoulder with his. “Could come round after this hunt, too. If you don’t mind a road trip, that is.”

Hanzo smirks. “I would like that. And I am more than certain that Genji would not protest either.”

They make the approach to room twenty-four, walking past it and stopping at their room, unlocking it and entering. Jesse pulls his phone out of his pocket, dialling a number before placing the phone on loudspeaker. It rings three times before Dean answers.

_“Hey man.”_

“Hey, Dean. Still got eyes on ‘er?”

_“Sure do. In fact, we’re keepin’ her busy for you.”_

“What does that mean?” Hanzo asks, frowning.

_“Genji’s buyin’ her a drink right now.”_

Hanzo shakes his head. “Of course he is,” he mutters. “Keep an eye on him, or –”

_“Yeah yeah, you’ll have my balls before she does. Genji’s fine. Don’t worry. Just do what you gotta do.”_

The call ends and Jesse places the phone back in his pocket.

“I was going to say I would have his head…” Hanzo mutters to himself, walking over to the guitar case.

“Don’t worry about Genji,” Jesse says, grabbing his backpack off the couch. “Dean will make sure he won’t get hurt.” He digs through one of the pockets, pulling out a black leather case.

Reciting the spell and opening the case, Hanzo answers, “I do not like putting the life of my brother in the hands of someone I have just met.”

Jesse pulls his gun and holster out of his bag, strapping it around his waist. “You trusted me just fine,” Jesse says with a wink.

Hanzo smiles and his stomach flutters. He trusted Jesse because by that time they’d been shamelessly flirting, and… “Genji was not in as much danger then as he is now. What if she _is_ a succubus and he is not in control of his actions?” He stands up and straps the quiver to his back, holding his bow in his hand.

Jesse smirks. “Does he know you care this much about his wellbeing?”

“He is the only family I have,” Hanzo says solemnly. He looks at the bow, wringing it in his hands. “While he can act like a child at times –”

“Most of the time,” Jesse chuckles.

Hanzo smiles and nods, “ _Most_ of the time… my life would be empty without him.”

Jesse hums, standing next to Hanzo and placing a hand on his shoulder, bringing it down on his bicep. “You should tell him that sometime.”

Hanzo nods. He should, but he and Genji were never ones to be overly affectionate to each other. He looks at Jesse and follows him to the door, heading out and walking over to room twenty-four.

Kneeling on the ground, Jesse gets to work on picking the lock. It only takes him a few seconds before he’s back on his feet, placing the tools in their case and stuffing it in his back pocket. Hanzo plucks an arrow from the quiver and nocks it as Jesse unholsters his gun, he opens the door and they hurry inside.

Hanzo frowns upon entering the room. Not that he had a specific idea in mind, but he was not expecting a standard, unlived in suite. He heads into the bedroom and eyes the large suitcase beside the bed.

Following behind, Jesse holsters his gun and crouches down, unzipping the suitcase. Hanzo draws his bow and nods when Jesse glances at him. Jesse opens it quickly, hand flying to the grip of his gun before he huffs. The suitcase is full of clothes; numerous dresses, shirts, jeans and shoes, both male and female.

“She does not have a nest,” Hanzo says, somewhat disappointed, lessening the tension on the bowstring.

“It was a long shot,” Jesse says, closing the top of the suitcase and zipping it back up. “Might be she’s not nesting yet.”

“It is a possibility.” Hanzo checks the adjoining bathroom, and it is just as unlived in as the main room.

Doubts clouding his mind like a heavy fog, Hanzo is starting to believe they have made a mistake. That they are at the wrong inn. That they will be dealing with two more bodies in the morning.

Jesse stands up and scratches his head, fingers pushing his hat back. Perhaps he too is having the same thoughts. He opens his mouth and takes a breath when his phone rings.

He pulls his phone out of his pocket and puts it on loudspeaker. “Sam, got anything for us?” A slight hint of desperation carries in his voice.

_“There’s a truck out here which has a cooler full of snail shells.”_

“Well that’s promising, because the room has come up empty,” Jesse answers, quickly scanning the bedroom once more.

“We will come to you,” Hanzo says, placing the arrow back in the quiver.

_“All right, catch you soon.”_

Jesse ends the call and they leave the room. They walk down the corridor and past reception, thankfully the manager is busy checking a couple in to notice them and the bow and quiver on Hanzo's back.

The warm ocean air hits Hanzo as Jesse opens the door. It is welcome to the stuffiness of the inn, not realising how bad it was until now. The sun hangs low in the dusky sky, the streaky clouds glow a vibrant orange as the sun reflects off them. Walking along the front of the building to the parking lot, they see Sam standing by the Impala and they approach.

"That truck there," Sam gestures with his head to the black truck sitting by its lonesome at the other end of the parking lot.

"All right, let's see what we've got," Jesse says, walking towards the truck. He looks out to the ocean adding, "Fishing is popular in Maine, so before we do anythin' too brash we need to make sure this is the Sazae Oni."

The tray of the truck is covered in a sheet, and the first thing Hanzo notices is it is stained with dark brown patches. Dirt and blood, he surmises.

Stopping at the side of the truck and wrinkling his nose, Jesse flicks back the sheet, revealing a large cooler. Whistling, he says, "That's gotta be a three hundred-odd quart cooler right there." He opens it and as Sam said, it is full to the brim of snail shells. Picking one up and upturning it, it's revealed it is empty. He plucks another, then another, all empty. "There's gotta be hundreds in here," he says, picking up a larger one with spikes, also empty.

"Well that fact alone is quite peculiar," Hanzo says, digging through the multitude of shells, picking one and checking it; of course empty.

"Yeah, I'm at a loss as to why anyone would need these," Sam says, "unless someone here really likes snail shells."

"It's Maine," Jesse says, looking from the cooler to Sam, then at the ocean, "you could probably bet that there are a large number of folks who have an interest in these things."

Sticking his hand into the depths of the cooler, Hanzo feels around for anything out of the ordinary. Most of the shells are small, some a bit bigger, then he feels something different. Large and smooth, numerous spikes jut out of it and it is cone shaped. "I think I have something," he says, fingers brushing the underside of the object in an attempt to lift it. He struggles to pick it up; whatever it is, it is heavy. He reaches in with his second hand and hefts it out, the smaller shells spill over and out of the cooler. In his hands is a shell, just over half the size of the cooler itself in length and height.

"That is... something," Sam says, eyes wide in surprise.

"I suppose there are not sea snails this large in America?”

"Can't say I've seen anythin' quite that large," Jesse says. He looks at the inn. "Reckon we should let the fellas know what we've found?"

"If they are occupied with keeping her busy, it might be better not to inform them," Hanzo says, readjusting his hold on the shell.

"I'll text Dean. He'll check the text and won't rouse suspicion." Sam grabs his phone out of his pocket and taps furiously.

Hanzo looks back at the shell, flicking the lid of the cooler down with his elbow and placing it on top. Considering they have time, he plucks an arrow from his quiver at random, one of the many he's equipped for this hunt. Might as well see if anything takes. The arrow he has grabbed is a standard steel head one. He touches it to the shell and nothing happens.

Feeling the fletchings, each one with a distinct length or texture for easy identification, he plucks an iron headed arrow, presses it to the shell and again, nothing. The third, a silver headed arrow. He feels confident with this one considering numerous yōkai react to silver. To Hanzo’s surprise, there is still no reaction.

The next arrow he plucks is an obsidian arrowhead. It is old, the shaft is made from bamboo and the fletching from actual bird feathers. He does not have very many of these, though he has never had a use for them.

He presses the arrowhead to the shell and it smoulders from the contact. With a smile, he looks to Jesse. "Bingo."

"Obsidian?" Sam guesses. When Hanzo nods, he then asks, "How many of those have you got?"

"Three on me."

"They'll have to do," Jesse says, placing a hand on Hanzo's shoulder. "Good work."

Hanzo opens his mouth to speak when Sam's phone rings.

Sam looks at the screen and answers, "Dean."

_"Did you guys just do something? Cause she's crumpled on the floor."_

"We pressed obsidian to the shell and it smouldered under the contact."

_"Well it's potent. Take out -"_

Silence. Hanzo looks from the phone to Sam.

"Dean?" Sam asks and there's no response. "Dean?!"

With that, Jesse picks up the shell and places it on the ground. Hanzo pulls the bow off his shoulder, nocks the obsidian arrow and draws, but before he can loose, the shell glows bright white, and a shockwave sends them flying and back.

Hanzo hits the ground hard, rolling to the side because of the quiver on his back. He looks at the truck next to him, Jesse’s pick-up, and is thankful he did not hit that. He sits up and picks up the bow and arrow beside him.

Pulling himself up, he looks at Jesse who was knocked against a car. He sits up with a groan, pressing his hand to the back of his head and checking it. Hanzo breathes a sigh of relief when he does not see blood.

He glances at Sam, who is already standing, eyebrows knitted together. He follows his gaze and the woman is there, standing _inside_ the shell. She has a black mark across her chest and neck; she brushes her fingertips along it.

"I have _never_ come across anything like that," she growls as Hanzo nocks and draws the arrow. "It burns."

Stepping outside the shell, Hanzo looses the arrow, embedding it in her shoulder. She screams as the wound smoulders from the contact, but after a moment laughs and looks at the arrow, grabbing the shaft and pulling it out. A trickle of blood escapes the wound, staining her white dress blue. At least now Hanzo has confirmation that this woman is in fact _not_ human.

He plucks another obsidian arrow and looses, this time aiming for her chest. Hitting her square where her heart is, she falls back, catching the truck with a hand to stop from falling to the ground. A scowl crosses her face as she looks at the arrow, and once again, grabs the shaft and pulls it out, tossing it to the ground.

"If I had proper human organs I'd be dead. Good thing I'm not human," she grins, standing up to full height and pressing a hand to the wound. Blood spills from her hand and drips to the ground.

Hanzo plucks the final obsidian arrow, nocking and drawing. Not wanting to take the risk that a head shot will not kill her; he aims at the woman and closes his eyes, calling forth the dragons within him. Awakened, they writhe under his skin. He takes deep, steady breaths, preparing his body and mind for the summoning ritual. Opening his eyes, he recites the prayer and unleashes the dragons.

_"Ryū ga waga teki wo kurau!"_

His tattoo glows an electric blue as the dragon lifts off his arm. Snaking forth into the arrow as it is loosed, two electric blue dragons burst forth, maws open as they approach the woman, travelling in a helix pattern. Lightning arcs off the dragon, making contact with the metal of the truck and the metal light fixtures on the inn.

Hanzo closes his eyes as the dragons consume the Sazae Oni. He can feel its life force, the evil it carries, as it as it is destroyed. Instructing the dragons to only destroy the Sazae Oni, they return to him, content and happy.

Falling to his knees, Hanzo opens his eyes, looking at the remains of the Sazae Oni. There is nothing left of her but a blue smear on the ground.

Jesse runs over to Hanzo, wrapping an arm around his back and a hand on his chest to keep him up. He is then met by Genji, Dean and Sam.

"That was friggin' cool!" Dean says, looking at the smear on the ground. He kicks at it, looking at the blue staining the toe of his boot before turning to Hanzo. "Now _that’s_ how you ice a bitch!"

Genji lifts Hanzo's arm right arm and places it around his shoulder. _"Are you okay, brother?"_

Hanzo nods, frowning as his whole body tingles as the dragons squirm under his skin. _"I will be fine, I just need rest."_

 _"And a drink?"_ Genji asks with a smirk.

Hanzo chuckles and nods. Jesse drapes Hanzo’s left arm over his shoulders and wraps his arm around Hanzo’s waist. Using both of their combined weights, Hanzo is pulled up to standing.

Hanzo takes back his hands but Genji holds onto his elbow. He tries weight bearing, but cannot keep his balance, caught by the two men.

"Whoa there, take it easy," Jesse says quietly, gently.

"I am fine." Hanzo hooks his arm in the tray of Jesse’s truck. "I can manage on my own."

Genji takes a step back, and after a moment Jesse reluctantly lets go of his arm. Hanzo takes a breath, closing his eyes as the dragons still under his skin, sated from their meal. He will feel better after a moment, and that is all it takes as he stands up to full height and turns around. Inhaling and exhaling deeply, he takes a step forward and falls back against the truck.

Jesse rushes in, once again wrapping an arm around his waist.

"I am fine."

"I hear ya, pumpkin, but let me help. You can barely stand."

Hanzo chuckles, leaning into Jesse and wrapping an arm around his back. "Pumpkin?"

"Just a pet name for those I hold dearest to me," Jesse whispers, kissing his temple.

Hanzo takes a step and Jesse walks in step with him. Each step gets easier than the last until he reaches a point where he is confident he does not need Jesse’s assistance. He does not part from him in any case, enjoying this closeness a little too much.

They enter the inn, and they wave at the manager behind the counter. She waves in return, either oblivious or ignorant of the fact that Genji is holding his bow in plain sight. He wonders if anyone saw his show.

Taking the stairs was a challenge, and in that moment he was relieved that he did not part from Jesse.

He is set down on the couch and Jesse sits next to him. Genji sits opposite, and Sam and Dean bring over dining chairs. Five glasses of whiskey are handed around; Hanzo looks at the amber liquid in the glass.

"To a successful hunt," Dean toasts, and the group raise their glasses.

Hanzo drinks the entire lot, savouring the burn in his throat. He holds out his glass and Dean pours them another.

"So you've got that ability too?" Dean asks, looking at Genji.

"I do,” Genji nods. “I've used it a few times. It's fun to wield, but the recovery is rough." He looks at Hanzo. "Like a bad hangover."

"So if I am going to experience a hangover I may as well drink," Hanzo says, downing the second glass of whiskey.

Jesse grabs the glass out of Hanzo’s hands and he pouts. "I don't much want to deal with a double hangover in the morning, thank you very much."

"You are staying?" Hanzo asks, single eyebrow quirked. Once he is in bed he would be practically dead to the world as he recovers.

"We paid for the room, didn't we?" He smirks, winking. Then Hanzo remembers their earlier conversation about staying at this inn.

"And this is where we check out," Dean says quickly, standing up. "You kids enjoy the room." He turns to Genji. "Come on, I'll give you another ride in the Impala."

Genji looks at Hanzo, wide grin on his face as he stands up and kisses his head. "I'll see you in the morning, anija. Don't do anything I wouldn't do!" He then turns to Jesse. “Aspirin and lots of water before bed. He will insist otherwise, but give him a greasy breakfast. His body needs the carbs.”

Hanzo rolls his eyes as Genji practically bounces to Dean's side.

“Got it,” Jesse says, wrapping his arm around him. “I’ll take _real_ good care of him.”

He cannot help but chuckle at the double entendre of that statement, and the look of disgust on Genji’s face is priceless. He then looks at Sam and Dean. "We will see you in the morning?"

"In the morning,” Dean says. “We'll take the kid out for breakfast, too." Dean places his arm around Genji's shoulder. He looks at Dean and kisses his cheek, squealing.

When Dean pulls back, Hanzo shakes his head. "Do not mind him, he is overly affectionate."

Dean smirks, looking at Genji. "It's all right." They turn to leave the room.

"Have a good night," Sam says with a smile. "We'll catch you in the morning."

Hanzo smiles and bows his head before he turns to leave, closing the door behind him.

Hanzo looks from the door to Jesse, placing a hand on his chest and resting his head on his shoulder.

"How're you feelin?" Jesse asks, kissing his head.

Hanzo relaxes, feeling warm not only from the alcohol, but from the closeness and the fact he and Jesse are completely alone. "Right now, I am fine.” Hanzo rakes the hand on Jesse’s chest down his torso before stopping on his inner thigh. Jesse sucks in a breath and Hanzo brings his voice down, low and husky, “Perhaps we should use this opportunity to have that round three."

Jesse hums, grabbing Hanzo’s hands and standing up, pulling Hanzo up with him. "Well now, that sounds like a fantastic idea."

\----------

“Oh my Gods, you’re so embarrassing!” Genji yells. “You’re practically sucking his face off!”

Moving his hand from Jesse’s waist, Hanzo holds it up and flips Genji off. And just to get on his nerves, Hanzo sweeps his tongue in Jesse’s mouth. If the small moan that escapes Jesse’s lips and the subsequent groan Genji gives are anything to go by, it has done its job.

Not that he needed an excuse to passionately kiss Jesse.

Hanzo nips at Jesse’s bottom lip as he pulls away, resting his hands on Jesse’s pectorals. “We should make a point to visit frequently.”

“Or I could come to you,” Jesse whispers, kissing his forehead.

Biting his lip, he then adds, “At the very least we should not leave so long between video chats.”

“So it _was_ more than one time!” Genji says, approaching.

“Just put a tie on the door,” Jesse smirks, looking at Genji. “That’ll stop him from walkin’ in.”

Hanzo chuckles, also looking at Genji. “A very good idea.”

“Then I’ll know _exactly_ what it is you’re doing in there!”

“Would you rather watch?” Hanzo throws back.

“No. Nope. Fuck no.” Genji answers, covering his eyes and walking further into the terminal.

Hanzo takes a breath, reluctant to part with Jesse. His hands trail up his shoulders, down his arms before settling in his hands. “I have enjoyed our time here, hunting with you.”

“Me too, pumpkin.”

“Next time we will book a longer stay, but unfortunately, business calls,” Hanzo sighs. Two days was not long enough.

“‘The Brothers Shimada, Paranormal Investigators’,” Jesse quotes their business name, waggling his eyebrows. “I can’t believe you found a way to profit from hunting.”

Hanzo hums. “Even though most of the time there is no activity present.” He sighs, knowing full well that the person who has asked for their services is paranoid and has too much money to burn. This would make the third time they have requested their help. Shaking his head to mentally throw those thoughts aside, he squeezes Jesse’s hands and looks up at him, smiling. “I would like to visit Santa Fe.”

“And I’d love to show you around.”

Hanzo stands on his toes, kissing Jesse again.

“Oh for fuck’s sake, Hanzo. We are going to miss the flight!”

Hanzo huffs as Jesse pulls away. “Go, before you do miss it.”

Opening his eyes and kissing his cheek, Hanzo squeezes Jesse’s hands. “Until next time.”

“Until next time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "What did the left nut say to the right nut?"  
> "Don't talk to the guy in the middle, he's a dick!"
> 
> And you know that Genji and Dean spent the entire time getting lunch sharing dick jokes and giggling like school kids.
> 
> \---  
> So there we have it, folks. This fic is the start of a series I'll be developing! The next fic I'll write and publish will be the prequel, the story of the boys' meeting. The only reason why I didn't write that in the first place was because I only had a month to write this because of the event, and writing the slow burn properly would have taken too long. I did have the intention of this being one one-shot but the more I wrote, the bigger the world grew. For the moment, this will be the only fic which will feature Sam and Dean.
> 
> Keep your eyes peeled for the prequel, landing sometime hopefully soon. Then after that the McHanzo reunion, set after this fic!
> 
> If you enjoyed reading this, if you want to see more from this universe, let me know in the comments!!
> 
> Until next time!  
> \---  
> Come say hi on [Tumblr!](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/chilliebean5)


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